custard
by StilesWinchester11
Summary: Stiles and Lydia fight over the various decoration options for their unborn child's bedroom. STYDIA ONE SHOT!


Lydia, would you be careful, please?" Stiles asked, his voice strained. He was holding up one end of a large cardboard box that contained a very _heavy_ crib. Lydia was holding up the other end, dragging it up the stairs backwards like it weighed nothing at all.

"Stiles, I'm not the one who dropped a couch on my toe last time we tried pulling something up the stairs, am I? Just shut up and lift," Lydia snapped.

"Yeah, well, this is a completely different situation because _I'm_ not the one who's pregnant," Stiles grumbled, but continued to push the box up the stairs while Lydia pulled. "Just don't fall on your face, please. Okay?"

Lydia made a frustrated noise.

Eventually, after a decent amount of grunting and sweating and arguing, they made it up the stairs and into the baby's room, laying the box on the carpet with relieved sighs. Lydia put two hands on her lower back and stretched, her shirt rising to reveal her significantly large belly. It was no longer a baby bump, which made Stiles very happy because it was extremely thrilling to see that swollen belly every day and think about the little guy inside.

Yeah, it's a boy. They found out yesterday.

Stiles wiped an arm across his forehead and looked around the room, breathing heavily.

"Okay, so the crib's going over there, right?" Stiles asked, pointing to the right corner of the small room. It was completely empty and bare, due to the fact that they'd been saving it for the baby and only now that they knew the gender could they decorate it appropriately. There were two small windows on the back wall that looked out onto a quaint little street below, and a forest beyond it that Scott had promised would be completely werewolf-free.

Lydia nodded enthusiastically, smiling. Stiles smiled back.

"Okay, so can we put the Yoda in _that_ corner?" Stiles asked hopefully, pointing to the left corner of the room.

Lydia's smile fell, replaced by a confused look. "Yoda?"

Stiles put out his hands, widening his eyes. " _Yes,_ the Yoda. Or, okay, if you really want it to be like, Chewbacca or something, we could do that too."

Lydia threw her head back, her mouth open in a groan. "Stiles, we _are_ not doing that. Christ, _I_ wouldn't even want some gigantic Star Wars replica in my room. It's creepy."

Stiles' mouth fell open in outrage and he threw himself after his wife as she started pacing around the room. " _Creepy?_ Cree- oh my God, Lydia, no. No, you are not doing this to me. I spent my entire adolescent life dealing with a best friend who never even _saw_ Star Wars and you are _not_ going to deprive my son of a Wookiee replica. No."

Lydia just sighed, putting her hands on her hips and turning to look at Stiles. "I think the correct thing to do here is to let the _baby_ decide. When he's ready. He's not even going to acknowledge how… _Star Wars-y_ his bedroom is until he has the power to make his own choices." She turned back to stare at the wall, tilting her head as she admired it. "Now. I'm thinking…pastels? Nice and neutral. Maybe a nice milky blue color here and then like a pretty custard color for the wall with the windows."

Stiles was practically choking on all the things he could say as she spoke. " _Custard?_ Are you serious? Lydia, this isn't a retirement home-"

Lydia flapped her hands wildly, scrunching up her face like she did when she was waiting for him to shut up. "Fine, if you really want, we can put those glow-in-the-dark star stickers on the ceiling. I saw them at the dollar store the other day."

Stiles wanted to claw his eyes out and he was about to retort when his mouth froze mid-idea. He frowned in thought. "I'm only going to say no to the Star Wars statue if you get rid of the custard."

"Fine," Lydia said simply, sighing. Stiles was glad to know that maybe he had drained some of the defiance from Lydia since the beginning of their relationship.

"Fine," Stiles parroted.

They stared at the wall for another few minutes before Stiles spoke up again. "If you just think about how much protection a Wookiee could offer-"

"Ugh," Lydia said, raising her hands in exasperation. She turned to walk around the room again.

"Just _think_ about it! Or-or, if we had a Yoda it could offer wisdom and maybe our child could be like one hundred times smarter than you and me _combined_ all because of the Yoda replica in his bedroom when he was a kid-"

"I take it back. I'm going to paint this _entire_ room custard. Every wall - maybe even the ceiling too-"

" _Lyd,_ " Stiles whined, drawing out the _y_ sound.

" _Stiles_ ," Lydia mimicked, crossing her arms over her chest and staring him down. Her eyes were bold and flaming and Stiles tried not to crumple under his wife's gaze. Okay, maybe he _hadn't_ drained some of the defiance out of her.

"Lydia."

"Yes, Stiles?" Lydia said, raising her eyebrows in mock expectancy.

He was moving closer to her. "If you get rid of the custard and put the plastic stars on the ceiling, I'll be happy. I promise."

But Lydia just moved her gaze toward the ceiling, her mouth in a tight, disobedient line.

"Lyd…" Stiles whined again, and he put his hands on her waist.

She was trying to hide a smile as she pointedly looked away from him and Stiles was rocking side to side on his feet, making her body sway with him.

"Lydiaaa," he said again, pressing his lips against hers. She laughed into his mouth and pulled back, but Stiles didn't take his hands off her waist, so they were both moving towards the wall until her back was against it.

After they kissed some more, - and boy, that never got old - Stiles pushed away and placed his hands on her belly, rubbing in circles.

He sighed. "It's wrong to makeout in the baby's room."

"You're right. We should go makeout in our own room," Lydia agreed softly.

"We have to put up the crib," Stiles said while he kissed her neck.

She moaned and Stiles wasn't sure if it was caused by his kissing or the fact that they had to put up the crib.

"Hmm, we'll just get the Yoda to do it," Lydia whispered.

Stiles' eyes lit up at that and he took a step back, his face shining like a kid with a new toy. "You'll let him have the Yoda?"

Lydia smiled softly, batting her eyelashes. And then suddenly she was grinning and she slapped his cheeks. "Nope," she said happily, as she pushed him away and bounced towards the door, her strawberry-blonde curls swinging with the movement.

Stiles just stood there in the baby's bedroom, his mouth falling open with hurt as he stared after her. He heard her laughing down the hallway and he moved to follow her as she headed towards their bedroom.

"You know I'll probably just sneak it in anyways. I don't need your permission," he called down the hallway.

As Lydia disappeared into the bedroom, Stiles heard her say his name in a serious, venomous way that told him she wasn't kidding anymore. She sounded just as irritated as she did back when they were teens in Beacon Hills, and Stiles grinned as he ran after her and joined her on the bed.

As promised, they kissed in their own bedroom, hoping to God that soon-to-be Uncle Scott and soon-to-be Aunt Allison would be a few hours late.

And 5 months later after several hundred arguments, they finally reached a compromise, and their newborn baby boy had a room of custard walls, plastic stars, and a pair of stuffed animals - a Yoda and a Wookiee.


End file.
